The notabilities and proprietors of the neighborhood had been invited in the name of the prince to the banquet, which was to inaugurate the opening of the works. No one could refuse such an invitation. It was true that when Eveline had proposed to the Abbé Samuel that he should undertake the office of intermediary, and call on his learned colleague Behrend, and bring him with him to the banquet, the abbé had exclaimed not for all the world would he venture to propose such a thing as that Behrend should wait upon their excellencies. And when he said this he knew very well what he was saying.
To return to the church door. As Peter Saffran stood stock-still, gazing after the vanishing figure of his former betrothed, he felt some one tap him on the shoulder; turning round, he saw standing behind him Felix Kaulmann. Peter's face went deadly white, partly with fear, more from inward rage. Felix, however, laughed carelessly, with the indifference of a great man, to what was, in his opinion, only a good joke.
"Good-day, fellow. Mind you come to the dinner," he said, as he followed the prince into the church.
Peter Saffran remained gaping at the noble gentlemen as they got out of their carriages, and when the crowd began to move into the church he followed in the stream. He made his way into the darkest corner, before the shrine of a saint, knelt down, with both his hands laid upon the wall and his head upon his folded arms, and there he made a vow—an awful, terrible vow. Those who saw him in his kneeling attitude, with bent head, imagined he had been struck at last by grace, and was repenting of his sins. When he had finished his prayer, or his curse, he got up quickly, and, without waiting for the end of the splendid ceremonial, hastened out of the church, casting a wild look behind him as he went, for he imagined that the saint in the shrine was pointing her finger at him and calling out, "Take him prisoner! He is a murderer!"
The church service being over, the distinguished company drove to the company's colony, and went over the works. They drove under triumphal arches which were erected in the streets, and were received by a deputation of workmen. The best orator made a speech, which would have been very eloquent only he stuck fast in the middle. The young girl who recited some verses was more happy in her delivery, and her youngest sister presented a bouquet to Eveline, who kissed the child.
"Ah! you are little Marie. Don't you know me?"
The child, however, was too frightened at this beautiful lady to make her an answer.
The guests visited the buildings under the guidance of Herr Rauné, who spared them nothing—the factory, the machinery, the iron-works. They were terribly tired of it all, and glad to get into the large rooms which had been temporarily arranged as the banqueting-hall. Here they were received by two bands playing Rakoczy's "March." To the banquet came a crowd of guests alike invited and uninvited—gentlemen, peasants, clergymen, and Bohemians. Eveline, however, looked in vain for her former master. Ivan was not among the guests. He had not even sent an excuse. What an uncouth man! and yet, perhaps, he had reason. If you drink beforehand to the skin of the bear, the bear has every right to decline being present at the feast. Peter Saffran, however, came; he was treated as the chief guest, and given the first place at the workman's table. This struck even his obtuse senses. Looking round he saw he was the only representative of the Bondathal mine.
The banquet lasted far on into the evening. Gentlemen and workmen were exceedingly merry. Towards the close of the feast Felix sent for Peter. He presented him to the prince.
"Here is the brave miner of whom I have told your excellency."